The Accidental Hoon

The Accidental Hoon?

 Well dear reader it’s been a busy week! Besides my pop falling ill, one of the other sad things that happened is my little car ‘Sammy’ also falling ill.

Sammy (the Suburu) has had a pretty great life, he’s around 22 years young. Originally belonging to my Grandpa Keith who used to make the voyage from Noosa to Newcastle and return. I have great memories on my nana Irene using a clothes peg to keep the pulled down ever so slightly so that is didn’t cut her neck, and so she could sleep peacefully. My mum inherited Sammy after grandpa went into his retirement home after my nana passed. Sammy however played silly buggers on mum often and she basically ended up re-building the car over 10 odd years time.

Fast-track to 2013, a first home owner with 2 car loans wasn’t smart! Mum wanted a new reliable car, I wanted a run-a-bout as we took ‘the good car’ Kermit on our family outings…. Fast-track to 2014 and Sammy decides to play silly buggers on me and overheat…. A LOT.

The things I know:

a)    How to fill, the radiator and take the cap off when hot!

b)   Alternate methods to get to work when things go wrong at fern bay

c)    There aren’t many decent men in the world! On at least 3 occasions a few men walked past with my bonnet popped… not 1 offer to help

d)   My man is a gentleman (he allowed me to commandeer Kermit as my daily driver)

Kermit was my daily driver when I got that call that pop had a stroke. The trip to town took about half the time old Sammy takes (It’s amazing the power a V8 has). So I started to get used to Kermit’s power, overtaking the Sunday drivers doing 20km slower than the limit. I started play AC/DC (it was already in the stacker) and started to park Kermit ‘like a boss’ reversies and everything! The Mr (picture a truck driver who wears black jeans and flanno’s in summer) got in the car with me and looked at the fandangle dashboard things and proclaimed I had been using just as much fuel as he does. It was then dear reader, I realised….. I was hoon! An accidental hoon who got swept up in the romance of putting my foot down and the car actually took off. The power had gone to my head and hands and I was in love!

But like Romeo and Juliet our love could not last. The Mr (bless his cotton socks) fixed Sammy. On the plus side, tomorrow I’ll go to work knowing there is a 50% less chance of getting a speeding fine.  Whilst Sammy’s cassette player has a certain charm, I can’t help but long for the Relationship with Kermit that ended too soon. So dear reader, tell me… are you a hoon, either knowing or accidental? I’d love to know!


For the love of gardening

For the love of gardening

Tonight dear readers I’m going to change it up. Rather than reflecting and projecting, I am simply going to lead you into a special part of my universe. So strap in and enjoy the story of an important father figure in my life…..

I’ve had a few nick names in my life some hung around, some I can’t mention knowing my mother might read this and one that stuck. Grub! I actually don’t know why ‘Grub’ was the choice, maybe it was because I used to eat chocolates and get a messy face? Maybe it was because I could never keep my room clean? (Maybe my mum could shed some light) But ‘Grub’ was the name that my pop picked for me and still to this very day he lays it on me every now and then.

My dad passed just over 8 years ago, I was 21. Dad’s dad passed a few years later. Pop (aka Ronald) has been the father figure in my life since. He was pretty happy when I asked him to come and inspect the house I was buying, he was even happier when he could impart his wisdom of what needed fixing to make said house a stable home. But it was the day I told him I was going to garden he was clearly stoked. He immediately struck me a rose (which is apparently pretty hard to do) and I fought dam hard to keep that bloody thing alive. I was chuffed the day it sprung a bud and he was proud as punch of me.


But it was the vege garden that really bonded us. 2013 had been a pretty ‘effed’ up year; the silver lining though was the adult bond that grew (and continues to grow) with pop. Pop started to relish in imparting his vege wisdom, starting with basic cow poop advice, (I now am a suppler of the best cow shit in town to those who need it) to the best planting advice. He loved the fact that I stuffed up planting a whole packet of beetroots at once, even telling his mates about the lessons he was giving me.  Even to my 30th birthday party, he bought me some tomato plants (which I promptly made him plant due to my alcohol incapability). And in my birthday book he wrote me a happy gardening message from said bond:


 I saw my pop last night and today in a very different way. In the hospital. Now dear reader, I’m not big on displays of emotion and I hate crying but I can tell you that protected river of feelings I have runs very deep. And pop’s misfortune is unfair and scary as fuck (sorry mum couldn’t keep that one in). He’s a fighter, but I can’t help but wonder what happens from here. I think about my nan, my mum, and my family and realise he’s not just the important father figure in my life, but the important man for all our lives. So tomorrow I’ll tend to my garden and know it’s not just for the love of gardening. It’s for the love of a pop and his grub.



4 Days into 2014 and already feeling quite chuffed about entering the vulnerable world that is blogging, I decided to set, nay, challenge my ideas of what I want out of what I believe will be a fabulous year. Leading me to the pressure of the New Year’s resolution. I am confident dear reader, that like myself, you may not be aware of the 2007 study by Wiseman[1] showing that 88% of persons who set New Year’s Resolutions fail.  Whilst not being surprised by this figure I can’t help but wonder why. So my thought process……..

New Year’s Resolution: A westernised practice evolving from various religions (for example: where the Romans began each year by making promises to the god Janus, for whom the month of January is named).

Firstly, I am far from religious. I do sport a mad-sick Buddha tattoo on my lustrous skin. However, whilst I believe in the Buddhist principles, the religious aspects are too difficult for me to pledge my soul too, I enjoy meat way too much. So then I wonder ‘to whom am I making this resolution and/or for’? The only answer I can come up with is ‘myself’. All in all the concept is to make a promise of self-improvement isn’t it? My diabetic condition calls for actively watching my food intake therefore, avoiding the age old ‘I’ll eat better exercise more’ resolution I couldn’t help but wonder what I can challenge myself with that is actually tangible.

The last month has had my head spinning with ideas of what I can do to challenge myself creatively. I never saw myself as an academic so the past 4 years I have spent studying has put the left side of my brain on overload, however, now I can see the light at the end of that tunnel, it’s time to start driving from the right lane, living 2014 with passion. So 2014 I am kicking out the typical New Year’s Resolutions and replacing them with Pass-olutions

Passion: Where one puts more energy than required into an ambition, which is materialised into action by enthusiasm, excitement, heart, mind, body and soul.

2014 Pass-olutions

Read more fiction – escape into other worlds more often

Ignite a flame – in this case start making my own candles

Guided meditation – calm mind calm life

Holiday more – see the sites our beautiful world has to offer

Take more photos – learn how to use the camera and get snapping

In fact I already started T today helping my cousin out taking some stock photos for her online business Zeke Unique. Here are some I the most happy with.

Image             Image

So dear reader, I challenge!!! I’ve showed you mine, I’d be happy for you to show me yours. What are your New Year’s Pass-olutions?

[1] Blame It on the Brain: The latest neuroscience research suggests spreading resolutions out over time is the best approachWall Street Journal, December 26, 2009

What The Blog!?!

I wasn’t born to be a writer (frankly, I don’t think I was born to do anything special, except to be my best self).  So when exploring my options for a creative outlet as a new years resolution (I’m only one day late), blogging was not a dominant option on my list. There are a few creative outlets I would consider, none however, that I can accurately explain without a stiff JD and DC and an interpretative dance.

It’s not often grey seeps into my ever present black and white frame of mind. I have often thought of blogging as ‘elitism for the grammatically correct’ or a craze of ‘blogging as the new black’. But then something happened. I pulled my head out of my arse and realised that the reason ‘blogging is the new black’ and it all comes down to time! Something that I reflect on almost everyday.

A very dear friend, my avocado, at taught me the most valuable lesson in my life a few years ago. That time IS the most valuable thing we have, the MOST scarce thing we can offer fellow humans and the best gift of all. This simple notion turned my world up-side-down, I reflected on my life up to that point; had I offered my time to others selflessly, whole heartedly, willingly even? Sadly readers the answer was no (I since have been more generous with my time, sometimes too generous).

This recently led me to the conclusion, blogging isn’t the new black or elitism for the grammatically correct. It is simply people trying to be their best self via a creative outlet. Sharing with friends, family and the universe a documented log of stories, opinions, life experiences and moments captured, of their time in this universe.

So I thank my dear avocado for the life lesson, and I thank my fellow bloggers for taking the time to share a bit of your best self so fearlessly in the big bad cyber world. I thank those who have taken the time to encourage me to start this blog and be my best self. And most importantly I thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my first blog.